


Tell You I Love You

by sweetcomfort



Category: Divergent Series - Veronica Roth, Doctor Who, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV), Sherlock (TV), Supernatural, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety, Car Accidents, Cat, Character Death, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, No Sex, POV Second Person, Panic Attacks, Social Anxiety, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 22:30:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2749517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetcomfort/pseuds/sweetcomfort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an AU where no specific characters are mentioned so any pairing with a male figure applies.</p><p>If you get triggered by alcohol abuse, please don't read this.</p><p>Person A is hit by a car after an argument and person B is left with the guilt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell You I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> Would like to say, thank you for reading this and also a big thank you to my instagram followers for their continued support and impatience!
> 
> I've mentioned all my trigger warnings so please enjoy this fic with whatever pairing you want it to be.

**This is a major trigger warning for the end, if you get triggered by suicide, don't read past the cut line, it will still make sense.**

* * *

Tell You I Love You

_That's him._

_The man you love._

_Lying there broken and bloodied._

_Pulse rate falling._

_Dropping._

_Your heart rate increases._

_It's like you're taking his life away._

_You are the one responsible for this._

_If only you weren't so selfish._

_What a petty argument._

_Rising._

_Falling._

_Everything._

_Nothing._

People always say 'I can't remember, everything just happened so quickly.' You now know that that is cliche bullshit. Everything happens so slowly. You remember everything. You know how it was your fault; if you hadn't stormed off he wouldn't have been lying in the middle of the road, the heat of life escaping his body. He wouldn't be gone.

You remember the squeal of tires as brakes were suddenly, frantically depressed. Too late. You remember the thud of his heavy weight as the car plowed into him. You remember turning around to see the driver get out of his car, dressed in business attire, stiff and shaking at the same time. You remember crying out and running to the crash sight. You remember that you shed no tears, not even as he reached out and said "I love you." one last time. The gentle caress of his fingertips against your pale cheek. You remember watching the life go out of his eyes. His beautiful eyes. The eyes you could stare into for days at a time, lost in the swirling canvas of love and adoration. You remember how the colours stilled and became dull. You remember watching him die. You remember it all.

That was a year ago and it's still as fresh in your memory as if it were only yesterday. The alcohol doesn't help. The alcohol never helps, yet you cling to it like it's the your last hope, the only thing keeping you grounded. However all it really does is make you vomit, sleep, hungover. You're in an abusive relationship with the bottle and you can't leave. You're an addict. You're addicted to the rough burn of bitter liquor as it glides down your throat the same way you were addicted to his kisses and embrace. However this addiction is less sweet than the flowing nectar of his love. This grotesque addiction that tears your soul apart, drives away your friends. Your family never left you but you see it in their eyes as they see the state of your cramped apartment, you see the pity. You don't want their pity. You want your love back. You had always had an addictive personality.

You were 15 when you went on your first date with him.

You knew you loved him when you were 16.

You were 17 when you lost your virginity.

When you were 18 he asked you to move in with him.

You went to college first.

At 22 you rented an apartment together.

He proposed when you were 23.

You agreed promptly afterward.

You got a cat at 24.

You were married by 25.

When you were 26 you discussed adoption.

He died at 27.

**_December 2005_ **

_You storm into the living room and see him sitting there watching the TV like everything is fine and dandy."You switched the toilet paper round." You accuse him with a pointing finger. He starts to protest before you cut him off. "Don't you dare try to blame this on the cat - again. You know full well it goes underneath and not over." He does. You seem to spend your life switching the toilet paper back round muttering to yourself._

_"Everyone knows that you put the toilet paper over because that's the way the pattern is printed."_

_"Fine!" You snap "Have it your way, but when the cat has unrolled all the paper, there is no chance in hell that I am cleaning it up." With that you storm out of the room to find the cat to see if cats can learn tricks._

**_January 2006_ **

_You stand in the bedroom door, smirking at your partner as he enters the bathroom and sees the toilet paper spilled on the floor. He turns around and looks you straight in the eye. "You did this." Of course you feign nonchalance._

_"_ _It must have been the cat. I did tell you this would happen." The last traces of your smirk lace themselves into your voice. You cough and mutter under your breath "I certainly didn't teach the cat to roll out the toilet paper or anything."_

_"I'm sorry what was that? Did you say you taught the cat to do this?" He didn't even think cats could learn how to do tricks._

_"No, I said I didn't teach the cat to do it, in a very sarcastic manner." You smile tightly and walk towards him. Reaching up so your mouth is level with his ear, you whisper "Have fun."_

_Then dart away at top speed. He stands in shock for a moment then begins the chase. It doesn't take long until he's caught up with you. He tackles you onto the carpet, your chest is heaving. "You cheeky son of a bitch." He grins, he's not mad. "How long have you been teaching the cat to do that?"_

_"Long enough it would seem." You smile back up at him."Now are you gonna go clean the toilet paper up?"_

_"Fine but next time you're doing it, you taught the damn cat to roll it all out, you can unteach her to do it." He presses his lips to yours briefly and moves to stand up._

_"You can clean it up later if you like." You look up at him with hooded eyes and a lazy smile. The kind no one can resist._

_"Oh hell yes" The toilet paper doesn't get cleared up until well into the night._

**_November 2008_ **

_"Do you think you could get your lazy butt off the couch and actually do some work around the house for once please." You're busying around in the kitchen cooking and cleaning. All your friends are coming round for dinner and you'll be damned if the house is anything less than spotless._

_"Yeah, yeah, after this show ends." You walk up to the TV and block his view._

_"We have guests coming this evening and I won't have us looking like we live in a landfill. So if you wouldn't mind can you vacuum the living room." You snap. They're your friends but you've always feared that if you don't meet people's standards then they'll leave you._

_"But the show..." He starts weakly._

_"Forget about the fucking show! Record it if you must but I'm not having you make us look bad. I do all the other work in this house. Actually forget it. You obviously don't know how to do any housework otherwise you would have offered by now. Silly me. Get back to watching TV." You know you shouldn't snap but he knows how much this kind of stuff means to you and you'd had a stressful week at work._

_"This house is clean god dammit!" He yelled at you. "You've been cleaning it everyday non-stop for the past week." He was right you had. "Just because I don't have some irrational fear of not meeting people's expectations. I'm not you, I don't-" He trails off weakly._

_"_ _You're not what?" You spit. "A clean freak?" You suggest. "Like to have your home look presentable?"_

_"No, I was out of line, I'm sorry."_

_"Say what you were going to say." Your voice is low, you don't know why this affecting you so much but it is. You feel prickly hot tears at the back of your eyes and you will them away. He sighs and looks away from you._

_"I don't have social anxiety."_

_"No you're right, you don't. If that's all then I'll be leaving now." You throw the tea towel you'd been using to dry up at him and put on your shoes." And he's there right behind you telling you 'he's sorry' and 'his temper just got the better of him' and you want to stay but you need to get some fresh air and cool off. "Just stop talking." You murmur "If you didn't mean it you wouldn't have said it now, please just let me go." He hadn't realized he was gripping your arm and let it go like it was made of molten iron._

_You slammed the door on the way out._

_You should have worn a coat, the rain was coming down hard and heavy, the wind howling and turning it horizontal. The sky was a forboding black. You cross the street and head for the hopefully empty park, letting your tears mix with the rain._

_You hear the squeal of tires as brakes were suddenly, frantically depressed. Too late. You hear the thud of his heavy weight as the car plowed into him. You turn around to see the driver get out of his car, dressed in business attire, stiff and shaking at the same time. You cry out and run to the crash sight. You shed no tears, not even as he reached out and said "I love you." one last time. The gentle caress of his fingertips against your pale cheek. You watch the life go out of his eyes. His beautiful eyes. The eyes you could stare into for days at a time, lost in the swirling canvas of love and adoration. You watch the colours still and become dull. You watch him die._

* * *

 

"It was my fault." You whisper to yourself. "He died, thinking I hated him." It becomes difficult to breathe and soon you're gasping for breath. "He died because I walked out" As if to soothe yourself, you begin to rock back and forth, your knees drawn up to your chest. "I need to tell him I love him. Need to let him know that I'm sorry." You're wailing now. "Oh god, why? Why did you do this to me?"

You were diagnosed with depression 7 months ago, you couldn't afford therapy, but you could afford alcohol and sleeping tablets.

You walk to the bathroom cabinet and you see all the toilet paper scrunched on the floor. You could never turn the toilet paper to be under again. You sob harder, the memory of happier times forced to the front of your mind. Reaching up, you take the plastic pill bottle out of the cabinet and make your way back to the kitchen. 

You empty the bottle into your hand and throw the pills into your mouth, you wash the pills down with whiskey and then drain the rest of the bottle. 

Reaching for your phone you ring your sister, knowing that she's at work and will have her phone on silent.

As predicted the phone goes to voicemail and you leave her a message. "I need to tell him I love him. I'm going to tell him I love him." You pause a moment and add as an after thought "Please look after the cat." You hang up walk to the television put on the only recording left on the planner, the show he was watching before the argument, and wait to be reunited with your love.

**Author's Note:**

> Well that was emotional to write. I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> The amount of times I've edited this shows that I should probably proof read first...oops


End file.
